


making hollywood look tiny

by mayyouwalk



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: GGE2017, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 03:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13426101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayyouwalk/pseuds/mayyouwalk
Summary: Ian convinces Mickey to actually do their summer reading this year.





	making hollywood look tiny

**Author's Note:**

> for the gallavich gift exchange 2017! written for @devilish-in-blood on tumblr :)
> 
> prompt: Romance, smut, scene with reading fantasy book, fluff
> 
> please forgive me for taking this prompt in the loosest possible way lol. i hope you like it!!

-

 

Mickey stops dead at the bottom of the basement stairs. “What the fuck, dude.”

Ian moves around him, reaches up above their heads and tugs a cord to switch on a bare light bulb swinging from the ceiling.

“It’s the only room in the house that's cold, my room is fucking sweltering,” Ian says, by way of explanation, which, fine, but it doesn’t really explain anything because—

“Why the fuck does it look like a fucking–a fucking—”

“Love nest?” Ian says, and Mickey takes a goddamn moment to marvel at the fact that some guy from Southside just uttered the words ‘love nest’ to his face and Mickey isn't gonna beat the snot out of him. It is, unfortunately, not a bad description of the basement: the place has been decked out in red and white streamers, unlit candles haphazardly placed around the floor and on the sole window ledge, a pile of blankets and heart-shaped pillows on the mattress in the corner. There are smiling stuffed animals and rose petals. Mickey feels ill. “Debbie. She’s, uh, determined to lose her virginity before the end of the summer.”

“What’d she do, rob a Valentine’s Day store?” He tears his eyes away from the horror show and throws himself down on the mattress, kicking at the blankets until they spill off onto the floor. Love nest, jesus fucking christ.

Ian laughs. “I don't think they make those, Mick.”

“They got Halloween shops, don't they?”

“Have you ever actually dressed up for Halloween?” Ian asks, presumably because he concedes that Mickey is, like always, right about this.

“Nope,” Mickey says. He kicks his shoes off, flips over the book in his hand. He can’t believe he’s about to willingly read a book _._ In the middle of summer. For fucking _school_.

“Fi used to make ghost costumes for all of us,” Ian is saying, like Mickey fucking asked. “You know, sheet with holes cut out? One for each of us.”

“Waste of sheets,” Mickey says. Ian shrugs.

“I think she just wanted us to be included at school with the other kids and stuff. Feel like a normal family.”

Mickey tries and fails to imagine any of his older brothers giving a shit about him or Mandy being included at school. Come to think of it, he thinks the last nice thing he himself did for Mandy was to get her her own switchblade, but even that was so she’d stop stealing his whenever she went out at night.

“Anyway,” Ian drops down next to Mickey, and the mattress groans and sags with their combined weight, “how far are you?”

He flips open his own copy of _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ to about the middle of the book. Mickey raises an eyebrow.

“It’s fucking July and you’re already halfway done with this shit?”

“Heard from Lip Mrs. Trent’s kind of a bitch,” Ian says, thumbing the corner of the pages. “Figured I’d try to win her over early.”

“Suck up.”

“Fuck off. How far are you?”

“Haven’t started.”

“Oh.”

Mickey blows out a frustrated breath, turning the brick of a book over in his hands. “Look, can we just ditch this shit for now and go shooting or something?”

“It’s like a billion degrees out, man, I’m not going up to a roof.”

“Movie?”

“No TV down here,” Ian points out, and, before Mickey can say it, “no money to go see one, either. Frank raided the squirrel fund last month so we’re strapped for the summer.”

“Fuck.”

While Mickey’s casting around for another idea, Ian props the book up and open on his knees, giving Mickey a pointed look. Mickey doesn’t break eye contact as he lets his own book slide off the mattress onto the floor. Ian looks unimpressed.

“There are easier ways to get laid, you know,” Mickey says, stalling. Ian tilts his head questioningly; Mickey jerks his chin at the room at large. “You should tell little orphan Annie she doesn’t have to go full twinkle lights and macramé just to get a guy to swipe her v-card.”

“Maybe she should just threaten him with a crowbar?” Ian smirks. “I hear that’s a thing for some guys.”

“Shut up.”

“ _You_ shut up.”

“Make me, bitch.”

Ian opens his mouth, closes it again. Turns back to his book and stares hard for a second, little furrow between his eyebrows.

“You make it to the end of a chapter and I’ll blow you,” Ian says, without looking over at Mickey. He flips a page and Mickey can see that the tops of his cheeks are pink, and that his eyes aren't moving across the page at all.

“Yeah?” Mickey chews his lip.

“Yeah.” Ian glances up, gives Mickey half a grin, and goes back to reading. Mickey’s stomach does this weird jumping thing, like he’s missed a step on a staircase and his stomach is trying to catch up with the rest of his body.

“Fine,” he grunts, picking up his book again and flipping it over. The pages are crumbled, and he smoothes them out, pretending not to stare at the line of Ian’s neck, his bent head. _Stupid asshole_ , Mickey thinks, _I should just tell him to blow me right now if he wants to so bad_.

He doesn't, for reasons that he’s pretty sure have to do with the stomach-jumping and neck-staring, but he’s trying not to think too hard about it, and gets to reading.

At first he’s not even really reading, just staring at the page for an acceptable amount of time before turning it. After a few minutes though, some lines catch his attention and he’s reading more in disbelief than anything else.

“Man, I thought this was supposed to be like a kids’ series,” Mickey says. “It’s pretty fucking dirty.”

“What?” Ian leans over Mickey’s shoulder, so they’re pressed together from hip to shoulder. It should be too hot for this kind of touching, and it _is_ actually too hot for this kind of touching but Mickey doesn’t shove him off like he suspects he should.

Mickey clears his throat, reads, “ _’Harry whipped his wand out and assumed the position’_ , I mean seriously? Rowling’s a fucking kinky bitch, man.”

Ian snorts, breaks out a laugh, burying it in Mickey’s shoulder so Mickey can feel him smile, feel his teeth against bare skin, and ok, seriously, _really,_ he should tell the kid to back off.

“I never really thought about it.”

“How can you not? It’s right fucking there! One more person ‘whips a wand out’ and they’re gonna have a fucking orgy on their hands.”

“Yeah, yeah, save it for the discussion Trent’s got planned when we go back.”

“She should be kicked out for assigning _porn_ to _children_.”

“Jesus, Mickey.”

“I’m just sayin’!”

Ian shakes his head, pretends to ignore him and goes back to his book, but he doesn’t move away again, leaving their sides pressed together. Mickey sneaks glances at him out of the corner of his eye for a bit, watching his smile fade to something more neutral as he gets into reading. He’s probably gonna finish the whole thing before the end of the month, will probably get an A for participation when they get back to school; meanwhile, it’ll be a miracle if Mickey even finishes this thing at all.

He is gonna finish this chapter though, he decides, when he feels Ian’s hand brush his thigh. Bastard’s still reading, but his fingers keep brushing the side of Mickey’s knee through his jeans, making Mickey squirm. He’s got eight pages left and he can’t get through them fast enough.

“Done!” he says finally, slamming the book shut and grabbing Ian’s wrist, his wandering hand, yanking him forward. Ian just chuckles, folding the top corner of the page he was on before tossing the book to the side, rolling towards Mickey.

“You want me to light some of these?” Ian asks, gesturing at the candles and grinning like a fucking loon. “Set the mood?”

“Mood’d be just fine if you’d get your fucking mouth on me instead of talking,” Mickey points out even as he grins, vicious and amped up, back at Ian.

“You say the sweetest things,” Ian hums, ripping Mickey’s jeans open and sliding to the end of the mattress, nudging Mickey’s legs apart so he can lay between them.

Mickey has a smart remark on the tip of his tongue, but then it’s… Ian tugging his boxers down and Ian drawing his cock out, looking up at Mickey from under his pale eyelashes, and Ian putting his mouth on him and...well. It’s all wet heat and toe-curling pleasure and Mickey lets himself enjoy it.

He knows Ian was kidding about setting the mood, but somehow amid all the ridiculous fluff Ian’s sister packed this basement with, it is kind of nice. The harsh light down here is softened by the fading summer sun filtering in through the window. It makes the whole room feel sort of unreal, a place out of time. Mickey sighs, shutting his eyes and thrusting up a little, knowing Ian can take it.

A door slams upstairs.

Mickey’s eyes snap open and he freezes. “Did you lock the basement door?”

As best he can with his mouth full of Mickey’s dick, Ian shrugs.

“Hey.” Mickey smacks the side of Ian’s head, and Ian throws him an irritated look, all raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes. “Did you?”

Ian slides his mouth slowly off Mickey’s dick with an exaggerated slurp. Mickey pinches his own thigh to suppress a moan. “I did. It’s probably just Fi home from work. She won’t come down here.”

The basement door handle rattles.

Mickey scrambles for his jeans, shoving Ian off. “You were fucking saying?” he hisses.

Ian rolls onto his back with a sigh. “What?” he yells.

“Ian?” comes a voice.

“Debs,” Ian mutters, then, at full volume, “Studying!”

“Fuck, Ian, come on!” Debbie calls. “I called dibs on the basement for tonight! I have a...friend coming over and I wanted to do something special!”

“Yeah, we can fucking see that,” Mickey says, eyeing the giant-ass teddy bear next to the mattress. The heart it’s holding tells Mickey it loves him “beary much” and Mickey wonders if there’s a way to sneak the thing out for target practice later.

Ian elbows him, but he’s smirking. “Sorry Debs, we’ll be done in an hour!”

A sigh, then footsteps clomping away. “I don't see what’s wrong with your room!” she calls as she’s leaving, voice pitching a whine that makes Mickey’s teeth hurt.

“I don't know what the fuck is up with her lately,” Ian says, when she's gone. “Been a bitch to Fiona, talking back to Lip...”

“Happens.” Mickey remembers when Mandy turned thirteen and started to get all cunty like that. At least at their house they could sort it out with fists. Or hair pulling, and scratching, he still has a groove in his shoulder from Mandy’s fucking claws.

Ian looks at Mickey, then his eyes trail down to Mickey’s crotch, and back to Mickey’s face. Mickey tongues the corner of his mouth.

“You promise you locked that door, man?”

“Cross my heart,” Ian says, and Mickey believes him, is already thinking about finishing in Ian’s mouth, seeing if Ian would be worked up enough to fuck him after. Wondering if his pain in the ass sister was smart enough to stash lube somewhere down in this Cupidian nightmare of a basement.

“Then get back to it.” Mickey grins.

Ian gets back to it.

The basement door handle rattles again. “Ian?”

“Son of a fucking—didn’t your parents ever hear of fucking birth control?” Mickey growls.

“Yeah, Fi?” Ian calls, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Disposal’s clogged again. Gonna need you to bring up the knife, the wrench, and those ROTC muscles of yours!”

Ian sighs, stands up, mattress creaking. He adjusts himself in his jeans and Mickey feels a stupid surge of pride. “Be right back.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” Mickey says, zipping his jeans back up and wincing a little. “You’ve got, what, 12 more siblings that’ll probably need something while you’re up there?”

“Find a way to entertain yourself, I guess.” Ian grins, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Read another chapter.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get right fucking on that,” Mickey snorts.

The footsteps on the stairs pause. “Hey, you wanna stay for dinner?”

“Uh, sure. Whatever,” Mickey mutters. He glances up in time to catch the enormous grin on Ian’s face.

He waits until Ian clambors up the rest of the stairs before he picks up the stupid book again, flips it open. The image of Ian’s smile burns behind his eyelids when he blinks.

 _I’m an idiot_ , he thinks, and punches that stupid stuffed bear in its stupid, red, heart-shaped nose.

**Author's Note:**

> apologies to ms. rowling. i was actually assigned one of the hp books as summer reading one year and the innuendos DID in fact get brought up in the in-class discussion, so i couldn't not. 
> 
> the title is from the song step with me by mika


End file.
